


Mess-Maker

by MidoriEyes



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Comedy, Gay, L4D2, M/M, Nellis, Nellis-verse, Romance, ellis - Freeform, left 4 dead 2 - Freeform, nick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriEyes/pseuds/MidoriEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Ellis get separated from their team when a bridge leading to freedom is blown up by the military. While struggling to regroup, the boys become closer in ways they never had when fighting zombies together. There's just one little problem... [nellis]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Moving this story from ff.net over to here since there's some crisis going on there about peoples' stories being deleted. :T
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy my story! :) I have ten chapters done, so I'll be uploading them slowly over the course of this week. (Just FYI, the first few parts is basically me trying to get back into the groove of writing again, so I apologize if the later chapters suddenly increase in quality compared to these first few lol!)
> 
> There WILL be some sexual content involved, so just be aware of that.
> 
> ~ M.E. <3

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** Part 1 **

_*CRACK*_

Even after the hundred-millionth time, he still couldn't get used to it.

_*THWACK*_

Sure, it was the most effective way to get the job done, but if only it didn't have to be so…

_*SPLURT*_

"Goddammit!"

Gross… for lack of a better word.

The sound of skulls caving in under deliberate force.

An onslaught of guts 'n' gore erupting from those fatal blows.

The wet gurgling noise that followed after.

It would make him puke any other day if he wasn't trying to avoid a similar, more gruesome, fate. Not to mention, the infected seemed to have the whole puke thing down to a T. Why add to the glut?

Nick loosened his grip on the baseball bat and let the cup of it tap the ground once he had finished off the last of the horde's stragglers. He wiped his forehead with the back of his free hand, careful not to let any sweat get on his jacket sleeve. There was no point in doing so, since the entire suit was practically caked with dirt, blood and other unmentionable substances, but he didn't exactly want any of that to get on his face either.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, the con-man begrudgingly jabbed one of the lifeless infected with his foot, grimacing when some of the unknown fluids smeared across his leather shoes.

"Ugh… grimy bastards."

He swung the wooden bat over his shoulder and trudged through the scattered bodies towards the city sidewalk. The battle had been taken to the middle of the street to prevent being cornered, but location meant shit when you had a sea of zombies surround you like a swarm of angry bees. Nick spat at the ground like he did after every horde. Although he usually sealed his lips shut when fighting so nothing foreign would make its way into his mouth, there was always a grainy lingering aftertaste when getting down and dirty with the infected. It was disgusting, to say the least.

He turned to look at the damage he had wrought, his usual poker face faltering for just a bit. Even the line of work he was in before all this shit hit the fan didn't require him to spill _this_ much blood. There were much cleaner ways in which he preferred to do this particularly nasty business , but one can't be choosy in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, he figured.

Just as the con-man was starting to enjoy the quiet humming in his ears, which would usually be filled with the moans and shrieks of zombies, an obnoxious voice, echoing off the walls of buildings, was directed in Nick's general direction.

"HEY! HEY, NICK! WAS THAT'A HOOT OR WHAT?"

Oh boy.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, brow drawn into a heavy frown, and slowly swiveled around to see the goofy mechanic jogging towards him like an excited puppy. The axe he carried in his hands had definitely seen better days, but then again it probably wasn't used to jamming itself into the heads and necks of zombies.

Who else but Ellis?

"Man, I didn' think we was gonna make it outta that one!" The younger man slowed to a stop in front of his companion, his wheezy breathing only a sign of how pumped up he had been through all of this. "I mean, after we got separated from Coach and Rochelle and all, I wasn't sure if just you and me could handle a bunch o' flesh-eatin' zombies on our own, 'ya know? But, man oh man, did we ever kick their sorry asses! WOO HOO!" Ellis punched his axe into the air like you'd see one do at a rock concert, clearly too energized to notice the gambler's not-so-carefree demeanor.

Nick rolled his eyes and took one last glance at the havoc they wreaked. "Honestly, I wasn't so sure we'd make it either, judging from the fact that all we have is a busted up old baseball bat and an axe that looks like the head might fall off any minute."

Ellis chuckled, "Naw, man. The only heads that'll be fallin' are the ones I take off with this baby." He hefted the weapon up and did a quick swing for Nick to see, causing the con-man to back up just in case fate's cruel hand decided to let the blade fly off into his face. That _would_ save him the trouble of dying by the hands of the infected, though.

"Easy there, sport. Let's not get too cocky. We still gotta find our way back to the others, and I have a feeling it ain't gonna be as easy as dicing up a few infected along the way." Nick brushed by the mechanic and continued down the sidewalk, keeping a vigilant eye out for any stray zombies that might have heard Ellis' unnecessary wooping from earlier. Ellis trailed after him, being just as cautious but still able to talk his jaw off at the same time.

"Well, we couldn't have gotten too far from them, right? I reckon we find them sooner than ya think, Nick."

"Always the optimist, eh?" the con-man mumbled.

"Huh? What'dja say?"

"Let's keep the chit chat to a minimum, overalls."

"Oh, okay."

The two survivors walked a good three blocks without being attacked. The last horde must've been all that was left in this area. It made sense since they were near the river and, once you're a zombie, apparently, you forget all about those swimming lessons you took as a kid. Not even an inner tube and some floaties could keep those vomiting bags of bones above water.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the only reason the group had found themselves by the river. There was supposed to be a bridge that connected from New Orleans over to an evac station where helicopters were lifting survivors out by the dozen. But, as their rotten luck would have it, they were too late getting to the bridge in time before a bunch of military jets (Nick preferred the word "assholes") decided to blow their road of freedom to kingdom come. Amidst all the bombing and confusion, the team scattered to avoid getting hit by pieces of soaring debris and a potential fiery demise. After the smoke cleared and the roar of jets had ceased, the survivors made sure that all of their body parts were still in tact and proceeded to search for each other.

Nick found Ellis first, having landed in the bed of a pickup truck from one of the blasts not too far from the scene. If it weren't for his signature hat that had fallen next to the vehicle, the con-man probably wouldn't have known he was there. The boy was a bit woozy, but he came to pretty quick once the gravity of the situation came rushing back. He and Nick called out for their companions about twenty times, almost ready to start digging through rubble and hoping to high heavens that they didn't find anything, when the familiar boom of Coach's voice rang out from behind a mountain of debris.

After yelling at each other over the ruins for what seemed like forever and coming up with their next move, the now two-people team parted ways and headed in opposite directions along the river. They were to find a safe house for the night and recuperate from their near-death experiences until morning, where they would then proceed to go around all of the damage caused by the jets and regroup once more. It seemed that Rochelle had been badly injured during the fray, so there wasn't much hope of them climbing over all of the demolition, not like any of them wanted to. From there… well, Coach hadn't mentioned anything beyond that. And who could blame him? None of the survivors were sure of what to do now that their only chance of getting out of New Orleans had been quite literally destroyed. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Oh, the irony in those words…

It wasn't until Nick had finished replaying these recent events in his head for the tenth time when he realized that Ellis had been going off on another tale about Keith for who knows how long. It was scary how Nick was able to just tune the kid out nowadays. That's when he knew they had spent too much time together. Although it wasn't so bad half of the time… okay, maybe a quarter of the time. Half was being way too generous. The mechanic had proved himself useful in most situations, however sloppy his methods were. His skills with a shotgun were border line pro, Nick often thought. It wasn't too much of a surprise since the guy was born and raised in hick country, where knowing how to shoot a gun was their first language around here. English was probably a close second… or third. All in all, Ellis was a semi-reliable part of the team. He had saved Nick's life more times than the con-man had taken lives. That was always a good asset to have around.

"Whoops!" Ellis' one pipe bomb detached itself from his coverall's belt loop, rolling a few feet away from him. "Come back here you…" The boy chased after it but failed to retrieve the object as it fell into an open manhole with a splash. "Aww, dang it! Where'd it go?" Ellis got on his hands and knees and shined his flashlight into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimmer of the pipe bomb somewhere in the muck. Nick's eyes were glued to the mechanic's backside.

Okay, so there were a fewother assets the kid might have that kept the con-man from leaving him behind (accentuation on the "ass"in "assets".)

Nick wasn't one to flaunt his sexual preferences to the world. Sometimes he enjoyed a woman's soft, curvy body to hold onto at night, while other days he may have an urge to skip the pillow talk and cater to the primal desires he often shared with his male bed partners. It all depended on his mood… or the first piece of sweet ass that came along, be it man or woman. And right now, with the zombie apocalypse taking a definite toll on the human race and completely sabotaging his consistent sex life, Ellis was the sweetest piece of ass he could ever hope for. Sure, there was Rochelle, but she made it perfectly clear to the con-man that he stood no chances in getting more intimate with her than they needed to be. The closest he'd come to actually making the moves on the reporter was when a Smoker had grabbed her by the leg and Nick had to wrap his arms around her chest from behind to keep the thing from reeling her in. During the panic, his incidental groping had gone unnoticed by Coach and Ellis, thankfully. Rochelle, however…

Nick rubbed the sore spot on his head from where she had clocked him with her cricket paddle after they'd killed the Smoker. Thus, Nick had prepared to unwillingly accept his bleak future of celibacy until he finally found a way out of this Godless era.

But then again…

Nick strolled up behind the mechanic and watched as the younger man attempted to shine the light further into the manhole, dead set on finding that long gone pipe bomb. The con-man's nose wrinkled at the smell emitting from the sewers below.

"Forget it, Ellis. Unless you plan on going down there yourself and getting covered in shit, I suggest we move on. Although, if you do decide to go with that option, you can bet that manhole won't be open when you come back up. There's no way I'm traveling with someone who smells like the ass-end of a Boomer."

Ellis looked over his shoulder at the gambling man, wearing one of those tell tale mischievous smirks when he was about to make a comeback. "Well gee, Nick, I'm perty sure the smell of yer suit would mask any stank comin' offa' me." The mechanic made brief eye contact with the numerous amount of bile stains and other strange fluids coating the once white fabric of Nick's attire.

Nick just stared the boy down, his stern expression unchanging like the card player he was known to be. Ellis stared back, not wanting to be the first to look away like some yellow-bellied sissy. He did flinch, though, when Nick jerked forward at him as if he were about to push the hick down the manhole, but kept walking instead. Ellis chuckled to himself, enjoying the playful banter he and Nick shared sometimes, even if the con-man himself didn't find it very funny. He rose from the dirty sidewalk, brushed off his pants and went to catch up with his companion. The loss of his only pipe bomb was unfortunate, but they were liable to find others along the way with any luck.

" 'Ey, Nick. You think Rochelle's gonna be okay?" Perhaps he could redeem himself from getting the gambler in a bad mood by changing the subject?

"I don't know, overalls. I'm not exactly with them, am I?"

"Man, I sure hope she isn't hurt too badly. I remember this one time Kei-"

"Let me guess," Nick interrupted, "… Keith decided to go get himself blown up next to a bridge and ended up breaking almost every bone in his body? Oh wait, I think I've heard that one before." His tone was drenched with sarcasm.

"That wasn't what I was goin' to say, Nick," Ellis chided him. The con-man rolled his eyes for the zillionth time that day and sighed.

"Yeah, well there's probably not going to be much of a difference between the story you're about to tell me compared to the ones I've already heard."

"Are you kiddin' me? Have you been listening to my stories at _all_? Keith has done all kinds of things, I'm telling' ya. You just need to get out more, man."

Nick snorted, "Well what'dya call _this_ then? Huh?" He was referring to everything they had been through since day one of the infection.

"The zombie apocalypse don't count, Nick. I'm talkin' 'bout for fun!"

"I thought you were having 'fun' killing all these things?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. It's cool to be bustin' some zombie heads like in my video games at home an' all, but I don't think it'd be my first choice."

"Tch. You talk about it like you're trying to decide which college to apply to." The con-man shook his head, taking a solid whack at a wandering infected who had spotted them from it's perch next to a dumpster.

"But Nick, didn't you ever go out fer fun sometimes, like with yer gamblin' buddies or whatever?"

Nick let out a brisk laugh. "First of all, sport, I didn't have any 'gamblin' buddies'," he mimicked in the hick's accent. Not shortly after one zombie came running after him, another one appeared from out of an alleyway. He swung with more force than he meant and heard two cracking sounds besides the usual one that came from the bat-to-skull contact. "Second of all, my idea of going out and your idea of going out are two completely different things goddammit why did this have to break of all times?" He held up the splintered baseball bat to examine the damage. The barrel was split in two, rendering the weapon virtually useless in Nick's eyes.

"It had a good run." Ellis' way of comforting fell on deaf ears as the con-man threw the piece of severed wood to the ground, hating the dead clunking sound it made when hitting the concrete. He turned his attention to Ellis' axe and snatched the weapon out of his hands.

"Ah- hey!"

"Oh, don't even start! You still got a frying pan on your belt. Me? I got nothing. Didn' yer dear ol' mother ever teach you 'bout sharin', _Ay-lus_?"

That shut the mechanic up right quick, but it didn't stop him from grumbling to himself while trying to get used to the lightweight feel of the skillet he unhooked from his waist. It's not like he couldn't K.O. some zombies with it. Hell, he was sure he could decimate an entire flock of infected with his mama's kitchenware alone, but axes and chainsaws trumped pots 'n' pans any day, hands down.

Ellis stayed a few steps behind the con-man this time, not wanting to make him more irritated than he already was. Although Nick wasn't exactly the social butterfly of their group, he was still a pretty cool guy… Okay, he was a _really_ cool guy. The gambler was one badass, zombie-killing machine, a title he usually reserved for himself. In fact, he was almost as awesome as his pal, Keith! And that was saying a lot. Maybe he held the man in too high of regards, or at least that's what Coach and Rochelle would say, but Ellis knew a BAMF when he saw one.

Now, sometimes Ellis would find his thoughts drifting towards Nick on a daily basis. It would go from how awesome he was at mowing down a horde, to his intellect on t hings Ellis wouldn't have even thought about during a zombie apocalypse, to the slick way his clothes made him look like he was part of the NY mafia (which may not have been entirely untrue), to the subtle way he smirked when amused by the mechanic's antics, to those sharp eyes that didn't miss a beat…

By this time, Ellis would have shook the thoughts out of his head on a count of how personal they were getting. It kind of scared him, honestly. He had always looked up to Nick as an idol of some sorts, but when it came to admiring his facial features like he would a girl's, it just became plain weird. Ellis wasn't one to dwell on troublesome matters for too long, and he'd treat these sudden revelations in the same respect… or at least he'd tried to. The mechanic had never met a man like Nicholas before, not in all his years in Savannah or out of it. He was like a good book that simply couldn't be put down, not that Ellis did much reading anyway. There were so many interesting things about him that the boy had a constant urge to get to know him at every waking moment. Of the three people he'd come to call family this past month or so, Nick was still quite a mystery. Maybe that's what made him so cool? He wasn't a wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve kind of guy, like himself. Sometimes Ellis would smile thinking how Nick might be a superhero in real life and that he puts on this tough guy attitude so that no one can figure out his secret identity. He'd be like that Green Hornet fellow; pretending to be a criminal, when really he's cracking down on crime behind the scenes.

That'd be sweeeeet!

"Hn? You say something, overalls?"

"Huh?" Ellis snapped out of his daydreaming and directed his dumbfounded gaze towards the con-man who was looking at him from over his shoulder. He had accidentally said that last thought out loud. "Uhh, no! I was just… thinkin' 'bout how cool it'd be to throw some boomer bile at one of them gas stations so we could light up those zombies like the 4th of July," He responded with a lopsided grin plastered onto his face, praying to dear God that the gambler wouldn't call his bluff.

Nick just gave the boy a thoughtful look, raising his eyebrows and nodding a bit. "Hm. You know what? Not a bad idea. Looks like there's hope for you yet, hayseed."

Despite the blatant name calling, Ellis swelled with joy at the con-man's praise. Such a small thing shouldn't have made him so happy, but it didn't feel wrong at all. With an extra spring in his step, Ellis moseyed on up next to his companion, still sporting a proud grin on his face and ready to take on whatever the world threw at them.

eeeeeeEEEEEEEUUUUAAHHHH~

Or so he thought.

The two men stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide and sweeping the terrain for any sign of where and what the noise was coming from.

"What the fuck was that?"Nick said between clenched teeth. He didn't want to be too loud in case the thing was nearby.

Ellis stood frozen in place, taking on the same cautious stance as the con-man, and replied in a low pronounced fashion, "I have no earthly idea, man."

The wailing continued, a rather high, muffled sound as if it was covered up by something. A few gurgles and sharp hiccups made it all the more ominous.

"Hey, ya know, what if it's one of them spittin' bitches." Ellis perked up, hoping that the thing was a Spitter so that they'd at least know what it is.

"I don't think so. It's not like any zombie we've faced, I can tell ya that." Nick took a few apprehensive steps forward and moved closer to the side of the buildings. When standing in the middle of the street, the noise would reverberate off the walls too much for him to pin point the sound's origin. Ellis followed suit and tightened his grip on the frying pan's handle.

"It kind of sounds like it's cryin', Nick. Maybe it's a Witch?"

"Could be, but it's… different than the Witches we've heard before." In any case, he hoped they could walk right past it like they would a Witch."

"Okay, but I swear I hear cryin'," the mechanic said with certainty.

It was at that moment when the two survivors finally figured out where the wailing was coming from. Both men turned around very slowly to peer inside one of the abandoned apartments that loomed over them. The window was broken on the floor above them, and that's exactly where the sound seemed to be pouring out.

"…'Ey, ya know… it could always be a female Smoker or somethin'. I mean, you never kn-"

"Ellis, shut up," Nick said without looking at the boy and made a beeline for the front doors of the building. Luckily, the glass panes of the double doors had been shattered for them, so all he had to do was step through in one fluid motion.

"Ah- hey, Nick! What're you doin'?" Ellis called after him in a hushed tone.

After looking around to make sure no infected were concealed within the darkness of the apartment lobby, Nick popped his head out the door. "If this thing we're hearing is some kind of new zombie shit that we haven't seen before, I'd rather get to it first before it gets us." With that, the con-man slipped back inside and went straight for the staircase. "You coming, overalls?"

Ellis hesitated for a moment, but figured he'd rather stick with the one other person with a weapon than stay out in the open all alone. Besides, he was extremely curious to see what was making that god awful racket up there. After nearly tripping over the doorway, the boy caught up with Nick and tip-toed up the stairwell. After reaching the first door they came to, Nick carefully opened it and checked to make sure it was all clear. He motioned Ellis inside the hallway, backs up against the wall and senses heightened.

The hall was eerie, and a bit too… white, for Nick. He loved the color on his suit, but it made the place look more like a hospital than an apartment. The only difference was that a hospital was usually quite sterile-looking, when as for the apartment… not so much.

He stepped over bits and pieces of household items, glass, and other debris peppered across the hallway. Oh, and a couple dead bodies, but that was a given. They were headed in the direction of the soft whining that wafted through the corridor like a ghostly echo. It was enough to put the mechanic's neck hair on edge. He was always told by his mama that ghosts weren't real because God would never leave a poor soul to aimlessly wander around on earth with nowhere to go. It was either heaven, or hell, depending on the person a soul belonged to. And yet, here he was fighting zombies, which he was also told weren't real. Nowadays, Ellis left these kind of things open for opinion.

When they came to the door where the wailing was coming from, room 202, Nick took one side and Ellis took the other, weapons poised and ready to strike if need be.

"Okay, Ellis." Nick only said the kid's full name when he wanted him to pay close attention. "On my count, we open the door and see what kind of hell awaits us in that room, got it?"

"Roger," the boy nodded, hands twisting around the skillet's handle.

"Alright. One… two… three!"

Nick grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open all the way (thankful that it was open in the first place), letting it hit the back of the wall. Ellis, feeling rather brave at the moment, swooped in and had his frying pan raised to kill when necessary.

But it was, in fact, unnecessary.

The room was empty, save for some ratty old furniture and clothing strewn about the floor. The curtains that were hung up over the broken window billowed into the space elegantly, almost unfitting for such a desolate scene. There didn't seem to be a sign of life anywhere, let alone zombies. Nick lowered his axe and placed a hand on his hip.

"Uhhh, okay? This should be the right room." He walked further into the apartment's den and searched all the nooks and crannies where infected may take refuge.

Ellis did the same for the kitchen, but got the same results.

"What the hell? As soon as we come up here, the noise just decides to stop? Something ain't right about that…"

"Hey, look!" Ellis held up a machete that he found on the kitchen counter. "Awwwrrriiight! I'm gonna cook me up some zombie sushi with this!" He sliced the air a few times to get a feel for his shiny new toy. Nick just smirked and shook his head, ignoring the fact that Ellis had referred to sushi as being "cooked". What a goober.

The con-man continued looking around the apartment and was about to open up the broom closet when he heard and audible gasp come from the other side of the room.

"Uhh, Nick? You might wanna come see this… or not, 'cuz it's pretty gross."

The gambler let out a long sigh and lumbered over to the bathroom where Ellis' back blocked the doorway.

"What is it this time, champ? Was the noise we heard a Spitter taking a shit?" As he got closer, he could see that Ellis' face was set into an uncomfortable grimace towards whatever he was staring at. When the con-man pushed him over a bit, he could understand why.

"Jesus Christ…"

The bitter metallic smell was overwhelming in the little room, no doubt from all of the blood that had turned the bath water a faded red. It had, at one time, slowly seeped from the wounds imbedded in the young woman's skin, eventually killing her. A blood-crusted knife lay at the side of the tub where one of the woman's arms was hanging out, an obvious hint that this was most definitely not the work of an infected.

Nick didn't seem to be too effected by the carnage and simply held a hand up to his nose to block the stench.

Ellis, on the other hand, removed his hat from his head and kneaded it in his hands, obviously a bit distraught by the horrific sight. In a quiet voice, he asked, "… Why'd you think she did it?"

The con-man scoffed, "Well, considering the circumstances, I'd say she decided to take the easy way out before this whole mess came knocking on her front door." He leaned down to grab the knife and examine it's current state. "The human mind is fragile, El, and apparently this woman didn't think she'd come outta this alive, especially when you have no one else around to tell you otherwise. If you ask me, she probably did herself a favor." Nick turned towards the sink, grabbing a hand towel hanging over the edge so he could chip off the dried blood. Might as well make use of the thing.

Ellis was muttering something under his breath that the con-man couldn't quite hear. He was about to ask the boy to repeat himself, but, when he heard a solemn "amen" at the end, that seemed to answered his question.

"Poor girl," Ellis said. "You think, maybe, if we'd gotten here sooner, she'd still be alive an' all?"

"Frankly, kid, I think-"

Nick paused in what he was about to say and stared at the towel he was using to wipe the knife with. Some parts of the blood came off as bright red on the white cotton cloth, which was unusual for someone who was supposed to have been dead for a while. Perhaps this didn't happen too long ago after all…

Ellis kept his eyes on Nick's back expectantly, waiting for the man to finish his sentence. The gambler shoved the towel in his inside coat pocket and attached the knife to his thigh holster. There was no need to let the mechanic know about his discovery, lest he make him even more upset.

"… I don't know. Doesn't matter now, does it?" Nick shrugged and made his way out of the bathroom before he got dizzy from the smell. Ellis gave one last heartbroken look at the corpse, closed the shower curtain out of respect, and slipped his hat back on.

"Sorry, miss." He certainly didn't have anything to apologize for, but Ellis still felt bad for the woman nonetheless. With that final sentiment, he stepped out of the cramped space and closed the door.

Nick had migrated to the bedroom, which was rather big for a medium-sized apartment. Everything looked pretty normal, albeit untidy.

"Guess the maid turned before her next visit." In spite of the dark undertone of his jest, Nick snickered to himself. He moved articles of clothing and other junk around with his axe and did a quick rummage through the closet to see if anything useful presented itself. No such luck.

"Nothing," he said, warily. "Then where did that noise come from?" He hadn't forgotten about the high shrills they'd heard from the streets. What could have possibly made that sound? There's no way it was the woman in the tub. Although she had died somewhat recently, it hadn't been in the last few minutes, that's for sure. Maybe the thing had moved on, whatever the thingwas?"

Nick was about to give up his search and seizure when something white caught the corner of his eye. He took a few steps toward the foot of the queen sized bed and saw that it was a piece of paper with writing scribbled on top. In cursive, no less! Nick hadn't seen cursive handwriting since he last wrote his 'John Hancock' from a credit card transaction, which wasn't very often since he was a convicted felon back in those days. The con-man picked up the note and struggled to make out the sloppy handwriting, silently reading the message out loud to himself.

_To who soever finds this…_

_I can't do it anymore. I'm all alone and I don't believe I'll be alive for much longer. I've decided to take matters into my own hands. If you are a survivor, I'm afraid you may have to use a different bathroom in this building._

'Did this girl just make a joke in her suicide note?' Nick thought. 'Well, at least her sense of humor hadn't died along with her.'

_I can only hope that God can forgive me in my time of weakness. I was not able to take her with me. It is a cruel fate I have left her with, but, as a mother, I just couldn't…_

_Please understand, whoever you are._

'Lady, I don't understand half of what you're saying, and I don't think I want to.'

_If she's still alive when you find her, then it may be best to just put her out of her misery… or, perhaps you would be kind-hearted enough to take her with you? But please, don't let my selfish request be a burden to you. My dying wishes shouldn't mean anything to a stranger._

'Okaaay…? This woman has officially lost me.'

_I would hope that my last words were able to reach somebody in these dark days. May you be safe in your travels, wherever they take you, and God bless._

_~Christina_

_P.S. - Her food is in the pantry._

'Geez, I didn't think she'd write down her life story. At least she had the decency to tell me about where some food is stashed.

Nick didn't have much respect for those who took their own lives. Why end something so easily when you could go out with a bang? And how depressed did you have to be to want to slit your own wrists, or jump off a bridge, or blow your brains out? It just didn't make any sense to the gambler. Yeah, he had his moments of absolute lows, but never did he once contemplate killing himself. Not to mention, his dealings in the past didn't exactly exempt him from an imminent death, anyway. He figured one of his enemies would do him in sooner or later, _if_ they could catch him, that is.

"Well, so long, Christina." He flicked the note onto the bed again just when Ellis came tromping into the room with his chunky work boots.

"Did ya find anythin', Nick?" The mechanic asked, scratching his stomach.

"Nada." Not entirely true, but why traumatize the kid more than he already was? "Looks like we might've scared off whatev-"

uuueeeeeeeaaahhh~

The two men saw each other's eyes bug out before turning their attention towards the bedroom window where a large square piece of furniture had been covered with a sheet. Neither of them moved for a while, wondering if something was going to jump out and maim them like their imaginations were leading them to think. Before Ellis could say a word, Nick held up his hand and gradually made his way over to the hidden structure with the mechanic following after, their weapons raised high. Once they had positioned themselves over the source of the noise, Nick carefully grabbed a fist full of the sheet and tore it off in one swift motion.

Uuuwwaaahhhhhhhh~

The baby squirmed around in its pink crib, it's face all scrunched up from crying and rosy cheeks wet with tears.

"You've gotta be shitting me."

**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**

_To be continued…_


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Ellis get separated from their team when a bridge leading to freedom is blown up by the military. While struggling to regroup, the boys become closer in ways they never had when fighting zombies together. There's just one little problem... [nellis]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally uploading the rest of the story. Sorry for the wait~! Was on a week long cruise with no internet, but I think that's what helped get me out of my rut for now. :)
> 
> Enjoy! <3

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** Part 2 **

"Oh mah GAWD, is that what I think it is??"

Ellis dropped his machete and let his mouth hang wide open. Nick did the same with the sheet he was holding and shook his head incredulously.

"If by 'it' you mean a fucking baby, then I'm not the only one hallucinating."

Uuuuaaaaahhhh~

"It looks real enough to me, Nick. Even sounds real!" Ellis said, leaning in closer to the crib. "I think it's a girl, on account a' all the pink."

"Okay, that's great and all, but the whole point is that there's a fucking baby here."

Ellis lifted an eyebrow at the con-man. "Yeah? What's so hard ta understand, Nick?"

"No, no, no. What's hard for you to understand is that this thing is here in the first place. After months of zombies strolling in and out of this city, how is it that it's still alive?"

"Well, how am I supposed to know that? I might'a been a baby at one point in mah life, but that don't mean I know a lick about'em," Ellis said in his defense.

"It just doesn't make any sense…" Nick scratched his head and blinked a few times to make sure he hadn't finally lost his marbles. So, this was the so-called "creature" they heard from outside? How had he misinterpreted the sound of a baby with a zombie? Had it been that long since he'd heard one cry? He couldn't remember the last time he even saw a baby. What the hell was one doing in a crib; it was like the zombie apocalypse had never happened!

Then he remembered the suicide note.

And the dead woman in the tub.

…

Everything clicked into place like a three-piece jigsaw puzzle after that.

"Shit…" he said softly.

"Hey… Nick?" Ellis spoke up. "You think that… the girl in the bathroom… that this is her…?"

'You read my mind, sport.'

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." The con-man turned around to face the crib again, leaning on the edge with both his hands. "Looks like little Annie just became an orphan."

"Annie? How do ya know her name?"

"… I don't. It's called a cultural reference, kid."

Ellis just shrugged and decided not to ask anymore about it.

"Sooo… what do we do?"

What do we do.

That was the million dollar question, wasn't it? Nick pursed his lips in thought, fingers digging into the crib's wooden railing. Of all things, he never expected to come across something like this on their travels. Hell, he figured that the infection had wiped out any and all children below the ages of twelve because their bodies couldn't handle the sickness, but here was living, breathing proof that he, and the rumors he'd heard, were wrong. Nick would never cease to be baffled by this strange phenomenon, but that wasn't the issue they needed to dwell on at the moment.

Ellis' eyes shifted from the infant to Nick about a dozen times while the con-man was thinking. He finally settled on looking at the baby girl and decided to make sure she wasn't hurt or bitten anywhere. She seemed untouched, which was a relief, but there was a definite and distinct stench coming off of her that warranted an unchanged diaper. It didn't bother the mechanic that much, though, seeing as he'd smelled worse things in his life, even outside of the zombie apocalypse. There were a ton of Keith stories he could tell of their grotesque pranks and misadventures involving filth of all kinds.  
During a pause in the baby's keening, it's plushy pink lips slipped out into a full pout, obviously a bit angry at the two people just standing there doing nothing to tend to her. This caused Ellis to chuckle, amused that she could make such an expression at this young of age.

Nick's eyes watched the interaction between the two and, with his mouth set into a tight frown, put a period on the end of his thought process. He lifted the axe onto his shoulder and turned to exit the room.

The mechanic did a double-take before realizing that Nick was leaving. He pulled his finger away from the baby, who had taken a hold of it out of curiosity, and called out to the con-man, "Where ya goin'?"

"We're leaving. Grab your butter knife and let's go."

"Oh. Okay, hang on a sec…" Ellis slipped the machete through one of his belt loops. "Let me just grab th--"

"Without the baby."

That command hung in the air for a few seconds, stalling both of the men in their current actions. Ellis was the first to speak.

"Yew… yew wanna leave her here?" The quiet shock in his voice was nothing Nick hadn't expected.

Nick stopped at the bedroom doorway. "We can't be carrying around a baby in a goddamn zombie apocalypse, Ellis," he said in an exasperated tone. "There's no way it would survive outside of these walls, let alone with us. I mean, seriously, you're kind of a zombie magnet, ya know that?"

"But we can't just leave it here to die, Nick! That ain't right!"

"Oh c'mon, the zombies would have gotten to it eventually."

"Not unless we take her with us!"

"Yeah? And what would you suggest we do with her, huh? Roll her down the street in a little pink buggy? Feed her, burp her, clean up her puke (not like we don't have enough of that on our hands)? Ellis, it would attract zombies like flies with it's crying alone."

"Well then we just gotta make her stop cryin'. Shouldn' be that hard." The mechanic turned around once more and pulled the fussy infant out of the comfort of it's crib. He was so set on showing how determined he was to bring this little girl with them that he momentarily forgot to put a hand behind her head.

"Watch it--!" The con-man shot a hand out, even though he was a good few feet away from them.

Ellis quickly corrected his positioning and supported her head properly this time, bouncing the baby in his arms to try to calm her down. He gave the con-man a quirky grin.

Nick shoved the traitorous hand into his pocket, averting his eyes as if he had flicked an internal switch back to "cold and uncaring".

"Hey, 'ey, 'ey… shhhhh shh shh shhh… It's okay, baby girl. Uncle Ellis' got'chew," the mechanic cooed while rocking her gently. The infant's limbs jerked around from the discomfort she was in, clearly not pacified by the boy's attempts at making her happy. But, just like her, he was a stubborn individual who wouldn't give up so easily. Ellis knew that if he couldn't find a way to make her stop crying, Nick would never let her tag along. In fact, crying or no crying, Nick's decision would probably remain the same.

That's when the mechanic formed an idea.

"Alright, Nick, " he said, directing a confident gaze at the con-man. "How much you wanna bet I can get her to stop cryin'?"

The con-man's gaze slowly fell on Ellis', one eyebrow arching. There was a sudden aura coming off of Nick that sent chills up his spine. Those alluring bedroom eyes were meant for more than just the bedroom, it seemed.

"You serious, kid?" he asked in a low voice.

"Serious as a heart attack." Although Ellis' boldness usually got him places, he was still rather intimidated by the electricity that Nick emitted when his gambling fix was being catered to.

Unfortunately, the con-man held back from taking the bait and shook his head. "Forget it, kid. I know what you're trying to pull, and it ain't gonna work. I've spent half my life doing it."

"Yew don' think I can do it? I'll prove it to ya, right here, right now!" Ellis gave a cocky nod of his head.

"Oh? And just what exactly would the stakes be in this ridiculous wager?"

"She comes with us." Plain, simple, and ever so typical.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Nick knew when he was being cheated out of a con, and the mechanic was doing a piss poor job of hiding it. "There's too little to go on. You're gonna have to add to the pile if you want me play, sport." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Ellis bit the side of his lower lip and knitted his brow together, clearly thinking of a way to sweeten the deal. His eyes lit up when a new approach struck him. "Fine, Mr. Gamblin' Man. I bet I can get her to stop cryin' and keep her from cryin' for the next… hour."

...

"Two hours."

"Hour and a half."

"Hour and forty-five minutes. Final offer, kid. Take it or leave it."

And that was that.

"Okay, okay. Hour and forty-five minutes. I bet yew I could even put her 'ta sleep if I wanted," he grinned.

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" The con-man returned the smile, but in a more dastardly manner.

"AND, and no tricks! You can't do anythin' like scarin' her or whatever 'ta make her cry! Got that?" He jabbed a finger in Nick's direction, hoping he looked as resolute as he sounded.

"Shouldn't you be proving me wrong before you start laying down the rules?" He gestured to the still whimpering infant in the mechanic's arms. "Just so you know, if you can't get it to shut up sooner or later, we're leaving it here. Got that?" He said in a more jeering way than Ellis had.

The boy didn't respond, giving the fellow survivor one last pensive look before returning his attention towards the baby girl. His steady rocking had helped to quell the temper tantrum at least, but she still had tears leaking from the corner of her pretty hazel eyes. They were very similar to her mother's… the southerner shook himself of that tragic image in the bathroom and focused on the task at hand.

First thing was first; changing her out of that dirty diaper. Who knew how long she'd been stewing in her own juices, so to speak?

With great care, Ellis laid her on the floral patterned bed and began aimlessly looking around for a package of diapers or some kind of baby bag. He slipped his fingers underneath his cap and scratched the dry scalp, a common habit he displayed when feeling pressured. Nick simply stood where he was and watched the humorous scene before him. The kid seemed so lost, it was almost painful to watch. He was only twenty-three, for God's sake, and, as far as Nick knew, he didn't have any younger siblings that he'd had to practice on in these particular situations.

Once the boy had found a baby bag in a space between the crib and the dresser, he hoisted it up on the bed and rifled through it for the required supplies.

"Awright, girl. Yew just let ol' Ellis make everythin' right again. Don't yew worry none." He managed to get the diaper off through the infant's wriggling and began the grueling process. " _Whoooo-weee!_ Smells like yew dropped a bomb, baby!" He laughed and recoiled away from the stench, quickly disposing of the dirty diaper into a small trash bin next to the bed.

Nick was mildly surprised that the mechanic knew how to change a diaper right off the bat. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would possess such knowledge considering his lifestyle.

"I had 'ta babysit for my mama's friend's kids a couple times when I was younger," he said, as if knowing what Nick was thinking. "It was an easy way of gettin' some cash when I needed it. One of them was only a few months old, an' I had 'ta change his diapers all the time. I swear, he was like a poopin' machine! How can so much shit come outta such a tiny thing? Ha ha, oh man…"

Ellis' ramblings, while often times irritating to others, seemed to soothe the baby below him. She stared at the mechanic with her big doe eyes as he talked, mouth still in a slight pout, but the tears were coming to their end, thankfully.

He patched her up with a brand new diaper once he'd applied the necessary powder, and secured the tape that would hold his handiwork together. The baby didn't look like she was uncomfortable, so Ellis immediately picked her back up in his arms and turned to show Nick.

"Ta-da~! Told ya I could do it." His cheeky grin made the con-man scoff.

"Uhh, hold it right there, kiddo. I don't think she's quite satisfied yet." He pointed to the baby's face as it was starting to scrunch up again. A few unhappy hiccups and that was all Ellis needed to hear before he realized that his job was far from done.

"What's wrong, girl? Yew hungry or somethin'? I don' have any food on me, though." This seemed to make the infant even more upset, even if she couldn't understand him. "Nick, I… I don't know what…" He didn't want to ask for help since that wasn't part of their bet, but the boy honestly wasn't sure how he was going to feed the poor child without any food around. He was at a loss.

"Hold on a second." Nick left the bedroom without informing Ellis of what he was going to do. After the mechanic heard some bustling in what sounded like the kitchen, his companion came back with a small jar of yellow stuff and a spoon.

"What's that?"

"What does it look like?" With a pop, Nick twisted off the lid and swirled the baby food around with the spoon. "Hope she likes bananas. Here." He shoved the jar in Ellis' free hand and crossed his arms. "Finish what you started."

Ellis nodded and sat down on the bed, keeping the baby snug in his lap. He scooped a spoonful of the yellow glop out of the jar and examined it with scrutiny. "Yew sure she's supposed to eat this? It looks kinda… inedible."

"It's a baby. They don't know the difference between food and crap. Just give it to her; she'll eat it," Nick shrugged. "And didn't you say you've done this before?"

"Uhh, yeah, but it's been a long time since then, man. Years!"

"Well, if you've got a busted hand, then maybe you shouldn't have tried buying the pot in the first place."

While he didn't know much about gambling terminology, Ellis wouldn't let Nick's words bring him down. He carefully moved the pasty banana concoction towards the baby's mouth until it almost touched her lips.

"Here ya go, girl. Yer probably perty hungry after bein' all by yerself fer so long."

The infant eventually gave into the temptation of food and opened her mouth to receive the mushy substance. She seemed to like the food after the first few bites, aside from spitting it up a couple of times like most babies do, and even Ellis looked like he was starting to enjoy the simple routine.

"Hey Ellis, here comes the airplane~," Nick teased. The mechanic just glanced at him and rolled his eyes.

Once the entire jar of banana surprise had been emptied, Ellis wiped the baby's mouth and slung her up to his shoulder. He stood up and resumed his cooing while gently patting her back, waiting for the oncoming burp that was bound to come out.

Nick watched how Ellis bounced her up and down while waltzing around in circles. He'd started singing a little tune under his breath, nearly lulling her to sleep with his sweet southern drawl. At one point, the boy turned away from the bedroom door where Nick had taken root, his broad back facing him along with the baby's head that was resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder. She made abrupt eye contact with the con-man and stared so hard that Nick was afraid she'd bore holes in his suit. He felt a twinge of envy seeing her nestled against that bronzed skin, or whatever his shirt didn't cover up. He'd wanted to experience that feeling with the kid for quite a while now. Not in the exact same way, per se, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't get these sudden urges to press himself against that body of his; to feel the warmth of skin against skin again, back when the world was in order. It was practically a crime to look like that and turn out to be some podunk mechanic! Although, the thought of a, preferably, shirtless Ellis working under the hood of his car didn't produce such a bad image…

"Where'd you find the baby food?"

"Huh? Oh…" Nick pushed the fantasy into the back of his mind to save for later. "In the kitchen pantry. I just figured that's where baby food would be if there were any. Luckily it's one of those things that has an expiration date of infinity." He had snatched up the suicide note from the bed when Ellis wasn't looking so that he wouldn't find out how Nick knew about the food, still intending to keep that morbid piece of evidence from the boy.

"I guess we should grab more on the way out then." The mechanic made a pleased expression when he heard the tell tale burp come from over his shoulder. He had been spared any puke, for now.

"Woah there, overalls. You still want to drag it along after all that trouble? There's not gonna be any diaper changing stations where we're headed, you know."

"Yes, I still wanna take HER with us, Nick, and there ain't nothin' s'gonna change my mind about it. Not yew, or your pissy fits." He responded in a stern voice, leaving no room for argument. Ellis was well aware of the dangers that awaited them beyond the safety of this room, especially with a one year old as the newest member of their team. But, by God, he was not going to leave this little girl for zombie chow!

"Christ…" Frustrated, Nick shook his head and turned towards the door. After a few moments of heavy silence, the con-man sighed and bit the inner skin on his lip. A deal was a deal, after all, and this bet was far from being over in the long run. "Fine. Pack her up and let's go. We sit here on our asses too long, Coach and Ro will wind up thinking we're dead in a ditch somewhere." He roughly grabbed his axe from against the wall and made his way out into the living room.

Ellis smiled gleefully when Nick wasn't looking and set the baby down on the bed to load up on some supplies. She already had some footie pajamas on, so there was no need to worry about clothing. He then took the blanket found in the crib and wrapped the little girl up into a bundle so that she'd be slightly protected from the elements. During his actions, he came upon another problem; there was no way he could carry the girl while wielding a weapon, so he had to find an alternative to a stroller or carrier. There wasn't a piece of cloth long enough to do the job of a sling, until he spotted the big blue curtains rippling gracefully in the open window. The mechanic yanked on the drapery until it was taut and whipped out his machete to slice at the fabric, forming a perfect substitute for a baby hammock. After tying the knot around his torso and making sure there was enough slack, he turned the sling around, placed the baby inside the little curve, and twisted it back around so that the infant was curled up behind him. It wasn't the best make-shift sling, but it'd have to do for now. The last few items he needed were all contained within the baby bag, which he put on like one would a sash, including a baby bottle, some stuffed toys, extra diapers, wipes, powder, and a small towel for spit-ups.

He joined Nick in the den, showing off his baby gear with a thumbs up.

The con-man couldn't hide his amusement when he saw the two. "Ha! You got a whole system worked out there?" He handed the mechanic the rest of the food jars to put in the baby bag.

"Yep," Ellis chirped. "Me and her; we gonna have a good time. Ain't that right, Georgia?"

"Wait, wait… you named her?" Nick had stopped himself from saying "it" this time since Ellis seemed rather perturbed about before.

"Well, yeah! What else we gonna call 'er? We don' know what her mom and dad named her."

"Ellis, once you've named her, you're gonna start getting too attached, and it'll be that much harder to say goodbye when the time comes."

"… Say goodbye?"

Nick snorted, "Tch, what? You were planning on adopting her or something? Be realistic, Ellis. You aren't her daddy. The best thing to do when we get out of here for good is to pass her off to someone who can, and is willing, to take care of her. I'm sure there's tons of child-less moms out there who'd love to have their baby back, or at least a version thereof."

"I-I know that. I do."

"Good. Then let's go. We've wasted enough time here already." The con-man exited out the front door and back into eerie hallway.

The baby squirmed against Ellis' back for a second before settling down again, hopefully into a long fitful nap. He glanced behind his shoulder at the tiny face. Nick was right about one thing; she needed to find a proper home after this. Keeping the baby with them wasn't really a luxury he could afford, not that he was thinking about keeping her permanently…

Ellis forced himself to stop dwelling on these issues and jogged to catch up with Nick, who had already reached the stairwell down the hall. The only thing he had to focus on now was making sure little Georgia didn't start crying again, otherwise the big bad Nick might huff and puff and throw her to the zombies. But no one could be that heartless, right?

Although, when it came to the con-man…

Ellis had a feeling that those forty-five extra minutes added on to his original one hour deal would be a lot longer than he thought.

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_To be continued…_


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Ellis get separated from their team when a bridge leading to freedom is blown up by the military. While struggling to regroup, the boys become closer in ways they never had when fighting zombies together. There's just one little problem... [nellis]

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**Part 3**

A few more infected showed up later in the day as Nick, Ellis, and their unexpected fellow survivor, Georgia, all made their way further into the decimated city. There were miles of destruction caused by those fighter jets from earlier. They hadn't just blown up the bridge, they took out a large area surrounding it just for good measure. A lot of the buildings had been leveled or about ready to collapse, creating a hazardous terrain which made it nearly impossible for Nick and Ellis to even dare to traverse -- at least until they cleared most of the wreckage. Hiking wasn't a bad pastime or anything, but they weren't Bear-fucking-Grylls, for Christ's sake.

Coach and Rochelle would be lucky enough to come across a safe house that the team had stayed in not too long ago, since they were on that side of town. However, the mechanic and the con man would not be endowed with such fortune.

"Damn. I don't even know where the hell we are," Nick muttered gruffly.

Ellis checked on Georgia for the millionth time since they'd brought her along to make sure she was still alive and kicking. Even while he was slashing zombies into ribbons with his machete, she hadn't woken up. "Maybe we shoulda' stayed along the river? There mighta' been another bridge we coulda' crossed."

"What, and get ourselves even more turned around? Besides, we don't know how far away the next bridge is. It'd probably take us days to get to one." Nick rolled his right shoulder until he heard a distinct pop. "And, I don't know about you, but downgrading from a four-man team to a two and a half-man team is starting to take its toll on me. So, no. I'd rather find them and then get out of this hell hole."

"Aw, c'mon, Nick. We ain't seen many zombies since we left the apartments. I figure all the bombin' scared most of'em off, or killed'em. Yew can't tell me yer tired already?"

Nick was actually referring to the fact that the absence of Coach and Rochelle, the only other people in their group who didn't have the mindset of a teenager with ADD, was slowly starting to grate on his nerves. The con man didn't even have the energy say this out loud, so he dropped the subject and kept moving forward.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten tired of carrying that barf bag around yet."

"It's only been thirty minutes, man. And guess what? She's sleepin' like a log, this girl!" He kept the volume of his voice low so as not to wake the snoozing infant.

"Yeah, well you still got an hour and fifteen minutes to go, sport. A lot can happen between now and then." The con man's warning didn't have any cynicism in it, nor did he mean to mock the boy; he was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing. Secretly, Nick didn't really want to win the bet because that would mean a shit ton of trouble for all of them. Right now, the baby was dead to the world, but it wouldn't take much to trigger a full on torrent of tears when it came to a one year old. Babies had some pretty powerful windbags, despite their size. No doubt it would attract a horde like any car alarm could.

"Hey, Nick?"

There was a short pause before the gambler spoke up. "I'm listening, kid. What is it?"

"Umm, what're we gonna do 'bout water? We haven't had any fer a while, and I know little Georgia ain't either. I don' want her to get de-hy-drated, ya know?"

Nick noted how funny it was when the southerner elongated words he didn't use in his everyday vocabulary. "She's probably already 'de-hy-drated'. My guess is that she's been on her own for a couple of days at least."

"So should'n we find some water before goin' any further?"

The mechanic had a point. They were somewhat used to going without water for a day or two. The glue-like consistency of saliva that coated their mouths was a far off afterthought while trying to fight for their lives out here. However, a baby as young as Georgia wouldn't last long without the proper nourishment. Plus, they needed to keep her happy for their sakes.

"Fine," Nick growled and reached into the left side of his suit jacket to grab something from the inner pocket. He pulled out a small canister of liquid, or so Ellis thought with the sloshing sound it made inside. But the sleek silver canister itself seemed…

"Uhhh, I don' think babies can drink that stuff, Nick." The mechanic's face was one of humor and revulsion.

Oddly enough, Nick's face mirrored a similar expression. "It's water, you idiot." He twisted the cap off and shoved it underneath the kid's nose.

Ellis took a whiff and laughed, "Well, it doesn't smell like gasoline, but there's still something that ain't right about it…"

"That's because I got it from the river during one of our pit stops."

"Duuuude, I hope you didn't collect that from downstream!" The boy backed away, disgusted by the thought of stuff other than water swimming around in the canister.

Nick didn't reassure him. "We have to boil it first before drinking it. Who knows how many zombies have taken a dive in that river." He secured the nozzle and slipped the canister back into his jacket. "Just gotta find a safe house for tonight, hopefully one with a working stove."

"Heh. Fat chance, mah friend."

It hadn't been but ten minutes of more walking until the two conscious survivors heard that deep-throated growl bouncing off the building walls from all directions.

Although it was needless to say, Ellis called it anyway. "Shit! I hear a Hunter!"

"It's been a while since we've put down one of those dirty dogs." Nick said with a subtle smirk. He almost welcomed the challenge that was about to present itself. He knew the Hunter had an acute sense of awareness, unlike the other special infected -- a higher intelligence, if you will. They most likely bolted before the jets even had a chance to drop the first bomb. He couldn't say the same for zombies like the Boomers.

'Those fat sacks of lard…'

A tell-tale screech rang in their ears, meaning that the Hunter had locked onto its target and was ready to pounce.

"Oh fu-"

As soon as Nick turned his back, the feral infected leapt out of an alley way and pinned the con man to the asphalt with little to no trouble at all. It was amazing how strong these things were when most of then were lacking a few feet in height compared to the survivors.

The Hunter wasted no time in swiping at the man's suit, intending to do some serious damage to his shoulder blades whenever he reached them through the thick fabric, which would only take a few seconds considering how sharp the claws were. But, before the special infected could shred the blue undershirt, Ellis hacked it's head off with one clean swing. The Hunter head tumbled onto the ground next to Nick's face, who cringed at those hollow, bloodied eyes, quickly bucking the zombie's body off of his back before he lost anymore of his dignity. It was pointless to brush his suit of dirt and grime, but the gambler did it out of habit.

"Jesus… That fucker came outta nowhere." He straightened his suit lapels with a harsh tug.

"Better you than me, I reckon." Nick leered at the mechanic for his blatant comment. "I'm just sayin' that it's better for it ta' have jumped on your back than my back because I got a baby strapped to mine! I don' mean no offense, man!" He held up his hands.

"Maybe we'd be better off if it did. The little imp would make quite a tasty snack for a Hunter."

"Don't joke around like that, Nick. It ain't funny."

The only thing funny was how much the con man wasn't joking.

"Tch. Let's just go before the whole damn pack shows up." Nick was too afraid to ask what the back of his jacket looked like right now. He'd already had one too many disappointments today.

Ellis was about to follow him until he spotted something shiny in the alley where the Hunter had been lying in wait. With no sign of other infected lurking within the shadows, the mechanic shuffled over and bent down to examine the object; a red metallic lighter. It didn't look like it was in too bad of shape either. Ellis picked it up and shook, pleased to hear the sound of lighter fluid inside.

'This'll definitely come in handy sooner or later,' he thought, pocketing the lighter and running to catch up with his companion.

The sky was already melting into jewel tones of orange and pink due to how the sun was reflecting off of the long billowing clouds. It'd been a while since anyone had seen such a collage of colors during dusk. Although the world seemed to stopped since the infection, it was clear that Mother Nature hadn't stopped for the world.

Nick and Ellis clung to that last thread of light before it would disappear behind the cityscape completely. It was imperative to find a temporary fortress before dark settled, or they would face the risk of blindly choosing one of the buildings to stay in, not knowing what dangers could be skulking about the premises. At some point, the survivors had drifted off the main street and ducked into various pathways to see if a safe house was tucked where it wouldn't be visible. After all, they couldn't get any more lost than they already were, but so far not even the usual spray-painted safe house symbol could be seen.

Nick was, for the most part, in a bad mood. Why they hadn't come across one of those big red doors yet was a mystery to him. It was always so easy when Coach and Rochelle were with them. The con man wasn't known for his sense of navigation, especially this far south, but even Ellis was having a hard time figuring out his lefts from his rights. The kid did say he'd only been to New Orleans once in his lifetime, so it's not like there was much for him to remember. Therefore, Nick was the leader in this little posse of theirs, and he wasn't about to relinquish control any time soon unless absolutely necessary.

Besides, the mechanic was too busy fiddling with the bundle of joy on his back. There was no way he could pay attention to that and where they were going in tandem. Ellis was a hyper-focused kind of guy; latching onto one idea or one course of action at a time. It came in handy when repairing cars, but babysitting during a zombie apocalypse was out of the question.

"Yo, overalls! Pick up the pace, will ya? We don't have much time left before nightfall."

"I'm hurryin' as fast as I can, Nick. Yew gotta realize that I'm haulin' an extra twenty pounds around with me, ya know," the boy chuckled in an attempt to help brighten the atmosphere. Nothing would work beyond this point, though.

"Well haul your ass instead. I think I see something that might be the answer to our prayers."

Fortunately for Ellis, there were now only five minutes left before their bet over Georgia ended, but the whole thing seemed rather unimportant compared to their current predicament. Neither of them had brought it up yet, at least.

"Oh, thank GOD!" Nick cried out once he saw the neon orange markings on the outer walls of a jewelry store. "Finally!"

Ellis was just as ecstatic to see the familiar graffiti and walked a bit faster to match his comrade's jog. "Home sweet home! At least for tonight, it is." The mechanic glanced back at his tiny passenger. "Yew hear that Georgia? We're gonna be aright! Another day, anoth-- oof!" He ran right into Nick's arm, which was stretched out to the side so that Ellis couldn't go any further. "What the heck, man? Why'dja-- ……..!!"

Those piercing red eyes were hidden underneath a curtain of straw-like, platinum blonde hair, but the Witch was definitely aware of the survivors' presence nonetheless. She sat hunched over in front of the open doors of the jewelry store with her hands clasped against her wrinkled face. The crying was still the low wail that meant she hadn't felt threatened just yet, but any closer and the conman would start to upset her for sure.

Ellis had cut himself off as soon as he followed Nick's gaze to the decrepit woman. The two didn't need communication to know that they had to back off. Ever so carefully, the mechanic lifted one hefty work boot and set it gently behind him, doing the same with his other foot at an easy, unhurried pace. Nick followed suit after Ellis had moved a few feet away from him, increasing the grip on his axe but refraining from raising it. Any sign of hostility might provoke the Witch, as Coach had once learned the hard way when he kept his automatic rifle pointed at the creatures face while moving around her. She hadn't liked that one bit.

Although this was no time for a wise crack, Nick simply couldn't help himself. "Looks like her boyfriend didn't go to Jared's."

"What?? Man, shut up!" Ellis didn't get the reference, but then again he never did when Nick was the one relaying them. He was just more concerned with keeping quiet until they were out of hearing range from the weeping infected.

The boy had felt sympathy for Witches when he'd first encountered them. One could only imagine what kind of pain they were going through to be crying that much. What were they like in their past lives? Did they have any sorrow or regrets at the time, and is that why they turned into such melancholic beings? Or perhaps they were happy back then and are simply mourning from the monsters they were forced to become? In fact, a lot of infected didn't seem to be very… thrilled with their new skins. Who would be?

Nick narrowed his eyes when he heard muffled whimpering noises coming from where Ellis stood. Was the kid seriously crying??

"Are you seriously crying?" He allowed himself a short glance at the mechanic before returning his attention back to the Witch.

"That ain't me, man."

"Well, then who the fuck is--"

Uuuueeehhhhh~

Ellis twisted his neck to look back at the squirming infant who had awoken from her peaceful slumber. Little Georgia's lips were pressed into a gloomy frown and her nearly eyebrow-less forehead started digging into those darling hazel eyes of hers. The boy would've laughed at her comical expression had they not been in such a precarious situation.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit..."

"Cursing at it isn't gonna make it shut up, Ellis," The con man said in a rigid whisper, his teeth ground tight against each other as he monitored the Witch's current mood. Apparently, she didn't enjoy having another drama queen try and outshine her, due to the way she was snarling at them.

Ellis quickly changed his "shits" turned to "shh's" while bouncing on his toes in an attempt to soothe her. He didn't dare dismiss his machete for the baby; one, he didn't have time to rock her back and forth like he would when their lives weren't hanging in the balance, and two, a baby didn't make an effective weapon. But the louder the Witch's wailing became, the more Georgia's cries increased (and vice versa.)

"Ellis, take her away from here before it--"

UUAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

The once haggard form spasmed to life as it screamed at the three survivors. Ellis' boots were kissing the ground with lightning speed before the Witch could even begin her chase. Once she had seen the source of the noise that had disturbed her attached to the boy's back, she locked her ruby eyes onto the target and sprinted towards her fleeing victims, claws extended and trailing behind her like a goddamn Wolverine-wannabe.

Nick tossed around a few swear words and backtracked while trying to figure out the best way to approach the Witch. If he got in her line of fire, no doubt he'd be shredded into parmesan. The distance between them was swiftly closing, so the con man acted upon the first thing that came to mind by swinging his axe into the right shin of her twiggy leg. It didn't lop off the appendage completely, but the damage done brought the infected to her knees with an agonizing howl. Unfortunately, the blow hadn't immobilized her permanently as Nick soon realized when she hastily scrambled forward to make minced meat out of her attacker. The injured leg was slowing her down considerably, but that didn't stop the woman from lashing out at Nick with those tapered talons of hers. The gambler was agile enough to dodge a couple swipes, which proved to make the Witch even more livid as the survivor drew further and further away from her.

Nick, however, once he had finally found his balance again, didn't take notice of the jutting fissure imbedded in the road behind him, which ended up being his downfall -- literally. The con man's heel caught on the craggy rupture, making this the second time he'd ended up on the ground today. However, the threat that faced him proposed a death knell greater than the last.

The Witch's staggering form hobbled up to the survivor and didn't even pause before looming over her victim with claws at the ready. Her bad leg gave way and she collapsed to one knee, giving Nick a chance for possible escape, but instead of the rush of adrenaline he was expecting to feel, a sharp and unrelenting pain shot through his own leg. Four razor-like claws pierced his pant leg and burrowed into the flesh underneath, hooking into his calf muscle with no intent on letting go. The Witch released a labored grunt and used the leverage to drag herself closer to the survivor, causing Nick to cry out from the deep lacerations she was leaving in his skin. He swore he saw a devious twinkle in the Witch's eye as she watched him writhe.

An eye for an eye, or in this case, a leg for a leg.

Just as she was about to hoist herself up enough to add swiss cheese to the "Survivor Special" of parmesan and minced meat, a silver protrusion popped out from the confines of her abdomen. She immediately seized up and let out a dreadful shriek to the sky, flopping forward while still skewered on the blade into a lifeless bag of bones not a moment later. Ellis pressed his shoe to the Witch's back and shoved her off the machete, her body akin to a rag dolls. As soon as Nick saw the mechanic's signature hat appear from the top of the Witch's slumping figure, he breathed a sigh of relief and let his head fall back for a spell. The burning pain in the con man's leg was a rude reminder of his new battle scars he had acquired during the tussle.

Ellis' voice was sweet on the ears after all of the ear-splitting squeals from the Witch. "Dude, Nick, er'yew awright?!" The mechanic crouched down, frantically scanning his comrade for any carnage the infected might have done. His eyes fastened onto the crimson stain seeping through the fabric of his pants, the blood making splotchy patches similar to rorschach patterns. "Shit… that looks bad."

"Tch, yeah. Doesn't just look bad, believe me." The con man winced as he moved his leg into an upright position, rolling up the pant leg to assess the wound. Indeed, four angry red lines were carved into his calf, as if Freddy himself had put them there. Nick briefly thought about how the famous horror icon and a Witch would make a lovely pair before he heard Ellis suck in through his teeth.

"Daaaang…" The mechanic lowered his head in guilt. "M'sorry, man. I started runnin' from'er because I was so worried about Georgia here, and then when I realized she weren't chasin' me no more you were already flat on yer back and--"

"No, no, it's fine," the gambler interrupted. "Hoes before bros, or however that pesky saying goes. Can't quite remember." Those thin lips were pulled apart to show a glimpse of his pearly whites, but his eyes were far from smiling. Even Ellis could tell that his fellow survivor was a bit sore at him for the whole fiasco.

The con man scowled from the searing pain that shot up through his muscle every time he tensed up. "Speaking of which, where is the little… imp…" He decided to stick with that pet name instead of all the other colorful things he could call the baby right now. It was, after all, her fault that the Witch had attacked them in the first place.

"She's right here, safe 'n' sound." He turned so that Nick could see her rosy face peering at him from her sling. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, but at least she had stopped for the moment. She wasn't even aware of what destruction she could have wrought upon them with her incessant wailing, those big blinking eyes oblivious to the world. Transparent snot had made a trail down one nostril from all of the pressure built up during her breakdown.

He was not wiping that up.

Nick gave the baby a half-hearted sneer before the mechanic turned back around to examine the ugly-looking wound. "We need to get yew patched up, mister." That much was certain.

"Well, that can wait until we get in the safe house. I don't want to draw anymore attention to ourselves than we already have, no thanks to that thing on your back." Nick stood up a little too quickly and almost fell back over if the mechanic hadn't been there to assist him. It hurt like a bitch to walk, but the con man would make do until they reached the jewelry store where a large red, metal door would be waiting with their names on it.

Ellis didn't want to piss the man off by scolding him for slandering the baby, so instead opted to silently help his comrade onto his feet and let part of the man's weight rest against his wide shoulders.

If Nick hadn't been focusing on keeping pressure off of his bad leg, he would've reveled in the proximity he was sharing with the boy, but it didn't stop him from squeezing the space between the mechanic's shoulder and neck, enjoying how firm the muscle was. In turn, he felt the grip under his armpit tighten until five worried fingers clamped around part of his left rib cage.

The con man didn't need to see Ellis' face to know how bad he felt about the Witch incident. While Nick often played the blame game, it wasn't like it was the boy's fault entirely. And, he hated to admit it, but Georgia didn't need to take the brunt of the blame either. Shit happens, plain and simple. It was every man for himself when it came to the zombie infested apocalypse, or at least that was motto he had adopted at the very beginning of this shit storm. He knew from the moment they took a freaking baby with them that it wasn't going to make their lives any easier. Not much they could do about it, though. Despite the cruel illusion he concocted of the baby-abandoning con man with a heart of ice, Nick wasn't such a bastard as to turn the little imp into a dumpster-baby. The bet he and the mechanic had made was more of a fun distraction for them until they could reunite with their other two comrades, not like he'd tell this to Ellis.

Nick felt a light touch on the arm he had slung around his companion's back. He looked to see that little Georgia had grabbed onto his jacket sleeve with mild curiosity, grasping the fabric between her tiny fingers and trying to shift it around in stiff, unpracticed movements.

It was fucking endearing.

Or at least that's what Nick thought snidely to himself as they made their way into the back room of the jewelry store where a good night's rest beckoned them.

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_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Ellis get separated from their team when a bridge leading to freedom is blown up by the military. While struggling to regroup, the boys become closer in ways they never had when fighting zombies together. There's just one little problem... [nellis]

**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**

** Part 4 **

"Gguuuhhbblll~"

Nick watched as little Georgia rocked back and forth on the floor exuberantly, her legs slightly bent in front of her and arms poised outward as if she were about to pounce on something. Those colorful eyes were wide with wonder at nothing in particular as she cooed and made content gurgling sounds.

The con man's face remained as stoic as it had been when they first entered the safe room. It was a fairly large space for a back room of a jewelry store, filled with filing cabinets containing information regarding the shop's various clients and their orders. Two large white tables were situated near the back for jewelry repair, a few stainless steel watches of local brand strewn about the shiny plastic surface along with their tiny parts. Some cubbies used to hold individual customer's jewelry were pushed against the wall opposite the safe room door in a haphazard manner, as if they didn't originally belong there. Most likely, another door was behind all of the clutter, perhaps one that led outside. If anything, that would be where delivers would come in.

The thing that inevitably caught Nick's eye once they examined the room was another large metal door besides the safe room entryway. It was like a large locker built in to the wall with a keypad placed at the right of it, some of the numbers a bit worn from being pressed so much.

Your standard jewelry store safe. It was meant for those particularly pricey rocks that the owner couldn't afford to lose. Nick ignored the itchy feeling in his hands for now and kept his attention on his injured leg as well as the baby.

"What're _you_ so happy about?" He asked Georgia begrudgingly.

She looked at him for a second, intrigued by the deep rumbling voice, but went back to checking out her surroundings again when nothing else happened.

"You think this is funny?" he gestured to the gashes in his calf. " _You're_ the cause of this, you know." Georgia let out a high gleeful squeal while waving her arms up and down. How she could be so content while Nick's leg was gushing blood in front of her, he did not know. "Hey, hey! Next time you pull something like that, I'm letting her have you." The con man jabbed a finger at the infant's chest, half mocking, half not. Georgia instantly grabbed hold of it and studied the larger appendage with both hands.

Nick's eyebrows twitched when he saw the innocent action. He felt his chest tighten for a moment before willing the feeling away and retrieving his finger before the baby decided she wanted to take a bite out of it (not that it would've hurt if she did since her teeth hadn't grown in.)

"Yeah, well… don't think acting all cute is gonna score you brownie points, 'cuz it ain't. I don't go for those kind of girls." He coughed once and looked back at the bathroom door where Ellis had gone.

The mechanic had saddled him with a bit of babysitting duty while he went to the bathroom to soak the towel Nick had kept from the apartment with warm water, part of his prep to clean the con man's "battle scar", or so he liked to call it. The only med kit they found had been lying underneath one of the tables, so that's what they'd be using to dress the wound. Nick helped move the process along by getting everything they'd need out of the red pouch and spreading it out on the floor next to him; gauze, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, antibacterial cream, butterfly bandages, and a clasp to hold the gauze in place.

Georgia picked up one of the cotton balls and slowly brought it to her mouth. Nick took the white fluff from her hands. "Don't eat that," was his simple command, throwing it back in the pile. The baby didn't mind, and went on to touch some of the other supplies which were too big for her to swallow.

Ellis appeared a couple seconds afterwards with the damp cloth and a grim smile. Nick had told the mechanic twice not to dwell on the Witch incident, and that next time he'll owe him something out of a snack machine to make up for it (even though they would usually brake the glass and take whatever they damn well please), but Ellis still felt rather bad for their run in with the bitch, seeing as a portion of the blame fell unto him.

The boy squatted down to his partner's level and made himself as comfortable as he could on the cold tile floor. "Sorry fer takin' so long. There was some blood still left on it from that knife yew were cleanin' earlier. Had to wash it out." The con man had completely forgotten about the "suicide knife" he had strapped to his thigh at the apartments. He inwardly cursed for not having the sense to use it on that Witch. He'd also have to fetch the axe he left outside the jewelry store when he toppled over that crack in the road.

Ellis' eyes fell on those nasty tears in the gambler's skin and he couldn't help but bite the bottom of his lip. "I'll wipe up all the blood and see if anythin' needs stitchin' first." The boy gently pressed the warm towel to Nick's calf and proceeded to work around the wound.

There were a few hisses on the con man's part, but nothing a little teeth clenching and mild distractions couldn't fix. Hell, he was distracted already by the way Ellis would worry that full lower lip of his with his front teeth and one incisor. He was obviously concentrating on making this ordeal as painless as possible, however successful he was being, and it made Nick wonder if he did this every time he was hyper focused on a task that required a certain amount of prudence from his rough mechanic's hands. Then again, a mechanic was always very vigilant when handling other people's cars as well as their own; the way they replaced parts, how something was tweaked, what needed to be tightened where and how much. Perhaps having careful hands was a trademark of his, despite the twenty-three year old's reckless actions and dimwittedness on some occasions.

Nick was jolted out of his pondering when he felt the familiar white hot bite of alcohol on his cuts. No amount of gentleness could keep that from hurting, but it was semi-satisfying to see the bubbling substance eat away at any lingering bacteria that might've caused potential infection. Ellis made sure every area of his wound was covered with the alcohol before padding it drying with another cotton ball and applying the antibacterial cream, making sure to leave some dry spots so that the butterfly bandages could catch on his skin. Thankfully, no one would be needing stitches this day.

The gauze was the last step, and Ellis did a pretty good job of wrapping the injured leg evenly and tightly, but not so much as to cut off blood circulation. Once the clasp was in place, he leaned back to admire his handiwork.

"All done! How's it feel?"

Nick moved his leg back and forth experimentally, flexing his calf muscle a few times to make sure the gauze wouldn't come undone. The pain was still present, but the con man had felt worse in his lifetime. This was a walk in the park compared to some of his past encounters with a well known friend of his called "trouble".

"Not bad, kid. I think I'll actually live," he teased.

Ellis was relieved that the gambler was in a moderate enough mood to jest. "Good. I've had a lotta practice doin' stuff like this fer my buddy, Keith. One time, when we built a homemade bonfire in his backyard, he used an entire can of gasoline to get the fire goin'. Well, as you can imagine… third degree burns over ninety-five percent of his body! I had to wrap him up like a mummy that day."

"Why didn't you just take him to the hospital like any normal person would?" Nick didn't often engage in one of the boy's stories, but it was different now that they were in a safe room and not on the lookout for zombies 24/7.

"Well, he didn' want his folks to find out what he gone did, see? So he pretended to be dressed as a mummy the whole week since it was durin' Halloween an' all. That's what made it so funny, too." The mechanic let out a hearty chuckle.

Nick snorted and shook his head. Somehow he highly doubted that Keith would have his rugged good looks, let alone recover within a week, after having third degree burns over ninety-five percent of your body, but Ellis was a man who got off on story telling that made every detail sound as juicy as possible, so why spoil his fun?

While the mechanic was putting away all med kit supplies, Nick heaved himself up off the ground with a grunt and patted the back of his pants to shake off any accumulated dirt. He walked to one side of the room and back to see how his leg faired under pressure, grateful that the pain was less than before. Although, it was kind of disappointing that his new battle scars would be hidden underneath his pant leg. They were pretty cool looking.

"Well, I guess we're holin' it up in here tonight," Ellis said, stating the obvious.

"Yup. Cozy little pad, isn't it?" Sarcasm was evident in Nick's voice.

"Aw, it could be worse. At least they got furniture and a workin' bathroom."

The con man let out a joyless "hallelujah" to the fact that they had running water. You learned to appreciate such small commodities like food and water after days of alternating between going with and without them.

"Is there a working shower?"

"No shower to begin with, unfortunately."

"Of course."

"You can probably use this here rag to wipe yerself down if ya want." He held out the still damp towel to Nick, now covered in fresh blood.

"Yeah. No thanks."

Georgia made a wet noise and let a bit of spit dribble down her chin.

"Besides, I think she needs it more than me." The gambler's eyebrows knitted together while staring down at the jovial infant.

"Oh, right!" Ellis set the towel down and swooped Georgia up and onto one of the tables. "Nick, what're the chances of us finally gettin' some water fer this trooper?"

"Easier now than it would've been since we have running water and won't have to boil the bacteria out." He took out his silver canister and headed toward the bathroom. "I'll go dump this shit out and fill it up with water from the sink. You watch stinky drool-face."

"Hey, that ain't a very nice thing to say to a baby!"

"I wasn't talking about her, slick," Nick retorted before closing the bathroom door behind him, wanting a bit of privacy to take care of his own business as well.

Ellis didn't know whether to be offended or amused by his companion's statement, but didn't have much time to think due to a wretched odor coming off of the child below him.

"Lord almighty! Smells like yew need another diaper change, missy. All that excitement and ya done near shi- I mean, crapped yer pants, ha ha!" Not like the use of that word was any better, but he figured it'd be best to set a good example at this point in the baby's life rather than later, on account of how fast they picked up on stuff. Hell, the only reason he had a "comprehension of every swear word in the English language", or so Nick said, was because the boy's parents were none too forbearing when it came to their colorful language palette. It was kind of unfair, though, whenever he would use such vocabulary and end up getting paddled by his mother for it.

Oh, what memories…

His mom was never cruel in her punishments, and her blows with the paddle didn't even hurt half of the time, but the mere fact that he had made her upset at him was enough reason to start bawling. Once the tears came, it was difficult for his mom to stay mad for too long. She was a sweet woman down to the soles of her shoes, which was more than he could say for his dad.

Their father left when Ellis turned seven. He couldn't quite remember what his pa looked like or how he acted around the family, but the blonde, big-boobed, dolled up tramp he brought home one night while mom was at work was one thing he'd never forget. The woman was practically drowning in her own makeup! Ellis didn't know that what his pa and that lady were doing was a bad thing until his mother came home early one night to find them humping like dogs in their bed. Of course, Ellis just thought they were wrestling since that's the excuse his parents came up with during those rare times he'd intrude on their activities. The boy didn't grasp the whole concept of an "affair" until he was around his teenage years when his mom finally told him what had really happened back then.

Needless to say, it was barely even a day before dad was booted out of the house along with his hussy girlfriend, leaving poor ol' ma to raise their child all on her own. So, while Elli's pa might not have been mean or abusive to his family, he sure as hell didn't give a damn about'em.

Years passed, and then the apocalypse came. As soon as the infection reached their city, Ellis hotfooted it from his auto shop back to the house to get his mom and skedaddle out of there in his truck faster than a jack rabbit during hunting season. He had been plagued with worry when he couldn't find her at first, but when he checked the fridge where she would usually leave little notes for him, a pink sticky note in his mother's curly handwriting claimed that she had been picked up by her brother and his family for early evacuation. Apparently, there was so much traffic blocking the road into town that they couldn't possibly force their way through the fray in order to reach him. The mechanic couldn't blame them since there had been so much pandaemonium going on that day. His mother left him the name and address of their safe haven so that he could join them as soon as possible (the phone lines had been damaged during the mayhem so it was no wonder she hadn't called him first.)

After receiving that bit of information, Ellis proceeded to check on all of his friend's houses and see if everyone was alright before going to the evac station himself. But, by the time he had finished his good samaritan work and was ready to book it out of Savannah, the zombies had already taken over, leaving Ellis to become the "badass zombie-killing machine" he was now.

Unfortunately, the station his family was transported to had been overrun not too long after that, but it seems they were able to get a few clusters of people out before the infection hit them full on. The boy could only hope that his dear mother had been among those remaining survivors. If pure luck couldn't do the trick, then his daily fervent praying certainly would.

The stony stare that Ellis was directing at the table was soon broken once he heard little Georgia's whimpering. He had paused in his changing duties when he started zoning out, and the last thing he had to do was give her a fresh diaper. She probably didn't enjoy the cold air on her rump.

"Oh! Sorry, girl. Ol' Ellis was takin' a trip back in time for a minute there." He laughed sheepishly and finished securing the diaper around her waist. "All done! Muuuuch, much better now." He hopped up on the table since all chairs were part of the man-made barricade on the other side of the room, and set Georgia in his lap on one knee. The feeling gave him an idea.

"My mom used to do this with me when I was yer age. I don' know if yer gonna like it as much as I did, but I guess it don't hurt to try?" Ellis situated his hands underneath Georgia's armpits and scooted her up a little higher on his thigh. "Ready?"

The baby just looked around in response, marveling at the new height she was at.

"Alright. Here comes the pony… pacey, pacey, pacey, pacey..." Ellis started shaking the leg Georgia was occupying in short, quick intervals. She looked like one of those Tickel-Me-Elmo toys that vibrated when they laughed. The point of this game was to mimic the walk of whatever horse Ellis pretended to be while the baby "rode" it. "Aaaand here comes the milk man… trot, trot, trot, trot…" For this exercise, he would lift his leg a bit higher and bring it down with a thunk every second or so to mimic the feel of a trotting horse. Georgia chose this time to open her mouth and let out a curious "ahhhhhh", her voice catching every time Ellis brought his leg down. "And here comes the bucking bronco! Ahhh~!" This action was similar to the trotting one, but faster and more wild. The baby seemed to like it though when she let out a high cheerful cry.

The mechanic guffawed. "I knew you'd like that! Ha ha ha!"

"Sheesh, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're enjoying it more than the baby."

Ellis looked up to find Nick leaning against the bathroom doorframe with a cheshire cat smile plastered onto his face. The boy felt himself swoon a bit on the inside, for what reason he did not know, and smiled back at his partner. "Well, the way I see it is that just because she's livin' in a zombie apocalypse don't mean she can't still have fun like most babies can."

"True, that." The con man sauntered over, carrying the canister he filled with clean water, and sat on the table next to Ellis. "Here. She's probably tired after all that barebacking." Ellis reprimanded him with a look for his sexual innuendo and nabbed the canister out of his hands. He unscrewed the cap and slowly brought the water to Georgia's petal pink lips. She went still after realizing that she was being given something to drink and accepted the liquid for a few beats until she pulled away. Nick had checked to make sure the water wasn't too cold for her, but she seemed to have trouble swallowing it anyway, choosing to let some of the water gush from her mouth instead.

"Why's she doin' that? Does it taste funny?" Ellis used the front of her footie pajamas to wipe her wet chin.

"Well, it's not exactly mountain valley spring water, if that's what you were expecting. We're just gonna have to make due." The con man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

They tried giving her another swig of the stuff, but she ended up rejecting most of it.

"Oh, come on, ya little imp. Tap water isn't all that bad."

"Maybe she ain't used to drinkin' water yet?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, yer supposed to start introducin' water to babies when they get to be around six months old, but her mom might not've done that yet and just kept feedin' her milk instead."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "And _how_ would you know all this?"

"I had to do my fair share of readin' on these things when takin' care of my mama's friend's kids, and one of'em was a baby, remember? She's the one who made me do it, actually, 'cuz she didn' want me screwin' anythin' up, ya know? Heh heh."

Nick recalled the mechanic telling him this before.

"Great. So now what do we do? There's no way we're gonna find unspoiled milk lying in a refrigerator somewhere."

Ellis shrugged. "We're just gonna have to keep giving her this until she's used to it. Ain't no way around it." He made sure Georgia got down at least three more gulps before handing the container back to Nick and burping her a second time that day. "Awright, girl. Let's find yew a place to settle down fer the night, shall we?" He hoisted her up on his hip, although she didn't exactly stay put since he didn't have the curves women had to shelf a baby there.

There wasn't much in the way of soft things in the back room of a jewelry store, but it was nothing Ellis couldn't remedy. He eyed the bathroom for a second and made his way back to where Nick was sitting.

"Hold her for a bit. I'm gonna make her a new crib."

Ellis caught his fellow survivor unprepared as he plunked the child into his arms. Nick fumbled with getting her into a normal position, too flabbergasted to refuse the sudden gift.

"Wait, make her a crib? Ellis, you-- Ellis!" He saw the mechanic slide into the bathroom and released a long sigh. Green locked onto hazel as the man and baby stared each other down for what felt like minutes. There was no expression on Georgia, which prompted Nick to show off his own poker face. It was getting hard to hold that stare, truthfully, so the con man blew a puff of air into the baby's eyes. As soon as she blinked, the con man snickered triumphantly.

"Heh. I win."

The next thing he knew, Ellis was tromping out of the bathroom with a cloud of toilet paper gathered in his arms, a few strands trailing behind him. It looked like he had unraveled the entire roll, or whatever was left on the spool.

"Is this really the time to go teepee someone's house, overalls?"

"It's for her bed." The mechanic responded simply.

"Ah, I see."

Ellis laid the toilet paper down between two of the filing cabinets and formed it into a fluffy nest. He also retrieved the cotton ball bag from the med kit and used it as a substitute for a pillow. That, along with the blanket they had wrapped her in at the apartments, would make her the snuggest bug in a rug this side of the apocalypse.

"Not too bad, if I do say so myself." He stood and headed towards the tables. "Okay, Georgia. Yer sleepin' chamber awaits." He grinned and lifted the infant from Nick's hands. The con man had been holding her under the arm pits and letting her feet touch his thighs the entire time, as if he didn't know what to do with the baby. Ellis just chocked it up to the fact that his comrade wasn't a very touchy-feely kind of guy.

"There we go… nice 'n' comfy!" As if on cue, Georgia yawned once her head touched the cotton ball-filled pillow. The mechanic made sure to tuck the blanket snugly around her form and pushed her back into the space a little more just in case an infected were to somehow break in and see her as a quick snack. "You'll be safe with me and Nick around. Don'tchu worry none, darlin'." He assured the drowsy infant with a curt nod. As her eyes were fluttering closed, the boy stood quietly and went back over to the tables where Nick was still perched, joining him.

They stared at the baby for a while, both a bit relaxed now that their topsy turvy day had finally come to an end, that is until morning. But it was "adult time" now, or at least that's what Nick's current thoughts were. Now if only his companion acted like a twenty-three year old besides just looking like one. Although, Ellis had looked pretty grown-up while handling the munchkin. He was a natural with kids, which didn't surprise Nick in the least, and it was kind of… sexy, at times. If the guy ever became a dad, he'd definitely be on the con man's list of DILF's (not that he had fucked any dads before. So far, it'd only been women in that category.)

"I don't know how you do it." Nick said out of the blue.

"Do what?"

"That." He gestured sloppily to the sleeping infant across the way.

"… You mean… with Georgia? Well, like I said, I had a bit of trainin' as a teenager, ya know?"

"Yeah, but there's a difference between good babysitting and bad babysitting. You're doing one hell of a job considering the circumstances, sport."

"Oh. Erm… thank yew, I guess." The boy chuckled to himself, bashful from the praise. "I was afraid that everythin' would be goin' downhill after we took her along." Nick couldn't have agreed more. "… But it weren't so bad once I got back into the swing of things."

"Don't worry about it. You're doing a better job than I ever would." The con man leaned back on the table with his hands folded behind his head. The dingy off-white of his suit was a sharp contrast between the snow white surface beneath him, but he was far from caring at this point.

"Aw, I'm sure you'd make a great daddy, Nick." The mechanic playfully hit his partner's foot with his own while twisting around to look at his laid back demeanor.

"Ha! Try telling that to all the people I've dated." The gambler closed his eyes against the harsh overhead lights, letting the tension from today melt away from his aching muscles. He remembered back to a couple moments when the women he was "seeing" at the time banged on his door and told him that they were carrying his unborn child. Not within the same day, of course, but it's not like this issue didn't happen very often. Fortunately, as a con artist himself, Nick could tell when something was being faked or not, especially when one of the girls brought in that phony pregnancy test she had turned "blue" with food coloring. Still, he was lucky to have dodged those baby bullets, because one day his worst fears might've actually come true.

Ellis decided to follow Nick's lead and lie back to give his body a break. "You dated a lot?"

"If by 'dated' you mean took a girl out for food and fucking, then yeah. Otherwise, I don't do long term relationships. Too much hassle."

"Is that because of… what you did before all this?"

It was a perfectly innocent question to which Nick had no problem answering, "Maybe. Some of it was. It's not like I went around raping and pillaging, like you, Coach and Rochelle make it out to be. I had a stable job, it just wasn't your typical corner office job, or cubicle office for that matter. And yeah, it may not have been entirely legal, but hey, you got a thousand kids all over the world illegally downloading music off the internet for free. What makes them any different than me?"

Ellis could think of a lot of differences between the two, but chose not to voice them. "Well, I reckon none of it matters now that we're in a zombie o-paco-lypse." He paused before resuming his thoughts. "It's mind blowin', man. What we did in the past don't really matter much now. The fact that I worked at an auto shop, and Rochelle's a reporter, and Coach is a… well, coach, and yew were whatever yew were… We're all fightin' for the same cause an' all, so… it's kinda cool, ya know?"

"Yeah. I hear ya." Nick was getting groggy, so he only paid attention to half of what the boy said just then. He had a point, though. They weren't labeled by their occupations anymore. They were simply just survivors; trying desperately to find solace in a world of blood, violence, death, and flesh-eating zombies. Their common goal is what kept the group together, which was one of the reasons why they needed to get back to their other team mates as soon as possible.

Tomorrow, they would scale any amount of destruction that got in their way, whether it be a mountain of debris or an army of goddamn Tanks.

"Hey Nick? You still awake?" Ellis turned his head towards the con man, his face inches away.

"Yes, but I'm trying not to be." He didn't think the kid would take the hint, but it didn't hurt to try.

"Thanks."

"For…?"

"… For lettin' Georgia stay with us."

Nick had almost forgotten about their bet, not that it was valid anymore since he had silently given into the thought of keeping the baby with them until they found someone who could take care of her.

"Mm." It was the best "no problem" he could muster at the moment.

"You're a good man, Nick."

This sentiment made the con man open his eyes and direct those grassy greens at his companion's, whose own blue one's were drilling straight back into his.

This was the part where Fernando would lean into his lover's lips, whisper sweet nothings in a husky voice, and snog the shit out of'em until the break of dawn. Nick, however, was no Fernando, although the idea was rather pleasant when it came to Ellis.

"Glad there's at least one person here who thinks so."

And with that, the two survivors ended their late night conversation and settled down for a long, uncomfortable sleep inside the jewelry store safe room.

No doubt their backs would be feeling it tomorrow morning.

**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**

_To be continued..._


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